After a very long day at the hospital, it’s over. I’m a little relieved for finally managing this miscarriage, but mostly I feel empty. I no longer carry my baby. I’m no longer pregnant. Over. Back to square one.
I’m not yet ready to start again. I’m not yet ready to give up. I stand here in between, grieving, hoping, feeling defeated, feeling sad, feeling normal. My new normal, that is. Locked in this endless cycle of pregnancy, fear, loss, grief, hope.
This time, however, is different. I don’t have the anger I used to carry around all the time. Angry at doctors, angry at life, angry at the unfairness of it all, angry at myself. Instead of anger I feel a growing indifference. Is that what acceptance feels like? I had expected it to feel better, to fill my void…
It doesn’t mean I have given up. Far from it. I’m determined to see a specialist willing to treat me and I have 6 blastocysts waiting for their chance to grow.
What I seem to have given up on is my all-consuming fight mode, living on a thread of hope that if I just hang on for a little longer, everything will be ok in a very short while. It won’t. I realise now I have a very long way ahead of me and I need to conserve my energies. As in a difficult long hike, I’ll keep placing on foot in front of the other, for as long as necessary; navigating towards the destination, but remembering to enjoy the way; dealing with unexpected challenges as they come and taking a resting break when needed.
I’ll keep going, with the support of my amazing husband and the love of the 4 babies I forever carry in my heart.
In case you’re wondering how it went yesterday, I’ll give a short account. I showed up at the hospital at 8 a.m., had my blood taken and waited for my appointment at 9 a.m.
The doctor scanned me again and could see my uterine lining was still very thick, with most of it up high and not looking like it would come down. My HCG level rose again yesterday to 3200, from 2800 on Sunday. So, after the third dose of misoprostol, my HCG continued to climb.
I was then admitted at 9.30 a.m., to have the evacuation in the afternoon. A very long, very tiring, very anxious wait followed. I was finally taken to surgery at 6.30 p.m.. The doctor said it all went well and he only used suction (though no scan guidance). He sent the pregnancy tissue to the lab for testing (not chromosomal testing, I understood he wants to confirm the pregnancy is not molar), but he expects everything to be fine.
I will have no more HCG monitoring and no follow-up scan (definitely disappointed about these things), he only told me to take a HPT in 3 weeks time and if it’s still positive they’ll investigate more. I’m not very happy with this approach, would have liked to see that HCG drop all the way to zero, especially as it was still rising (??!!) after 3 doses of Cytotec.
That’s it, according to doctors all is fine and over with. Time to focus on my emotional recovery.